There's a moment in the Gospel of Matthew that changed everything I understand about faith.
Jesus tells His disciples to get in the boat. He's going up on the mountain to pray. They row out into the water. And then the storm comes. The kind of storm that makes experienced fishermen pray, the kind that shakes you to your core.
Jesus knew the storm was coming. And in the midst of the storm, Jesus shows up walking on the water.
Not in a boat. Not wading. Not swimming. But walking. On top of the water like it's solid ground. And the disciples, terrified, think He's a ghost.
But then He says five words that split history:
Take courage. It is I.
And Peter, impulsive, reckless, beautiful, stupid Peter, does something that should get him killed:
He asks to walk out to Jesus.
On the water. In a storm. With nothing but faith holding him up.
And Jesus says: Come.
The Prayer We Pray Without Thinking
There's a worship song called "Oceans," some people know it as "Where Feet May Fail." And it captures this moment perfectly:
You called me out upon the water. The great unknown. Where feet may fail.
And then:
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander. Where my faith can be made stronger.
How many of us have prayed that prayer? Not just sung it. Actually meant it.
Take me deeper, God. Take me somewhere I can't go on my own. Take me to the edge of what I can handle. Take me into deep water.
We've all prayed it. Or thought it. Or whispered it in the dark when everything felt too small and too safe and too not enough.
And here's what happens next, almost every time:
We start walking.
For a few steps, it's miraculous. Our feet don't sink. The water holds us. We look at Jesus and we feel like we could walk forever. We feel invincible. We feel like maybe, just maybe, we're finally becoming the man we're supposed to be.
And then we look at the waves.
The Waves Never Stop
Peter walked. Feet on water. Eyes locked on Jesus. And for a moment, he was doing the impossible.
Then he looked at the waves. He felt the wind. He remembered that he was a man and men don't walk on water. And he sank.
"Lord, save me!" he cried. And Jesus caught him immediately.
But notice what Jesus said: "You of little faith, why did you doubt?"
Not "Why did you fall?" Not "Why did you mess up?" But "Why did you doubt?"
Because that's the actual problem. Not that Peter couldn't walk on water. Peter could walk on water. He did it. The problem was that he stopped believing he could while he was still doing it.
This is the thing we don't talk about enough in church. We talk about having faith. We talk about claiming victory. We talk about speaking things into existence. And all of that has some truth in it.
But we don't talk nearly enough about this: faith isn't a feeling you get once and carry with you forever. Faith is a constant, deliberate choice to keep your eyes on Jesus instead of on the storm.
And the moment you switch your gaze, the moment you move your focus from the abundant, the purposeful, the calling, to the scarce, the challenging, the overwhelming, you start to sink.
The Verse We Misquote
Here's a verse almost every Christian man knows:
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:13
We love that verse. We quote it. We put it on the wall. We use it to psych ourselves up for the hard thing.
But most of us are quoting it wrong.
The verse doesn't say "I can do all things because Christ strengthens me." It says:
I can do all things THROUGH Christ who strengthens me.
That word, through, is everything. It means Jesus isn't off-stage, energizing you from a distance. It means Jesus is in the boat with you. In the water with you. In the storm with you. In the failure with you. In the deep water with you.
It means you're not walking on water and hoping Jesus is watching. You're walking on water with Jesus, and you're moving because He is moving. You're staying up because He is keeping you up. You're surviving because He is sustaining you.
The second you try to be the hero of your own story, the second you think "Okay, I'm inspired now, I can take it from here," that's when your feet start to slip.
The Prayer We Pray and Regret
So when we pray "Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander," we need to understand what we're actually asking for.
We're not asking for a promotion. We're not asking for a bigger platform. We're not asking for the highlight reel of a bigger life.
We're asking to be taken to a place so far beyond our capacity that we literally cannot succeed without God. We're asking for the waves to be so big that looking at them for one second sends us under. We're asking to be so in over our heads that there is no human solution, no backup plan, no strategy that will work.
We're asking for a situation where faith isn't a nice addition. It's the only thing standing between us and drowning.
And then we're shocked. Shocked. When God says yes.
When the challenges come and they're bigger than anything we've ever faced. When the business is on the brink. When the marriage is breaking. When the calling is clear but the path is invisible. When we're standing in water that's over our heads and there's nothing to hold onto but faith.
We panic. We look at the waves. We feel the wind. We call it a mistake and beg God to put us back in the boat.
But Peter didn't beg to go back in the boat. He begged Jesus to save him. And Jesus didn't say "Okay, abort mission, get back in the boat with the other cowards." He said "Why did you doubt?". Meaning, Why did you stop believing you could do this?
Because Peter could do it. He was doing it. The only thing that stopped him was looking away.
You Were Never Meant to Walk Alone
Here's the part of this story that breaks my heart every time I think about it:
Peter was in the boat with eleven other men.
Eleven.
And when Jesus called him out to walk on the water, the others didn't follow. They stayed in the boat. Safe. Dry. Terrified.
And Peter went alone.
Now, Peter made a choice to look at the waves and doubt. That was his failure. But you know what? He also had to make the choice to step out of the boat alone, without any of his brothers walking with him.
How much easier would that have been if even one of the other disciples had said "I'm coming with you, Peter"? If James had stepped out. If John had stepped out. If even one of the other eleven had said "Whatever this is, we're in it together."
I don't know. Maybe Peter still would've looked at the waves. Maybe the outcome would've been the same.
But I know this: a man walking alone into deep water is infinitely more vulnerable than a man walking with brothers.
And yet, this is the part that kills me, this is exactly what we do.
We pray "Take me deeper." We feel the call to something bigger. We see the vision. And then we try to build it alone. We try to carry the weight alone. We try to walk on water while all our brothers stay safe in the boat, watching us either succeed or sink.
We recruit no one. We call no one. We ask for help from no one.
And then we're shocked when we start to drown.
The Disciples Jesus Called
Jesus, God in human form, 100% God and 100% man, with infinite power and infinite wisdom, never tried to do His ministry alone.
He called twelve disciples. He called them into His inner circle. He taught them. He invested in them. He rebuked them when they messed up. He loved them when they failed.
He built a team.
And then He sent them out, two by two, not alone. Not in ones. In pairs. With a brother. With accountability. With someone to turn to when the fear got too big.
If Jesus, the literal Son of God, needed a team, what in the world makes you think you don't?
But here's what I see constantly:
Men with dreams, walking alone. Men with callings, carrying the weight by themselves. Men praying "Take me deeper" and then acting shocked when the deep water shows up and they have no one to grab onto but themselves.
And the deeper the water gets, the more they start to sink.
The Question That Matters
So here's what I need to ask you, and I need you to answer it honestly:
Who have you recruited?
Not in the sense of employees or people under you. Who have you called into your corner? Who knows what you're really doing? Who are you vulnerable with? Who would you call at two in the morning when the fear is real and the doubt is louder than the faith?
Who have you invited into the deep water with you?
Because whatever your goals are, whatever dreams you're holding, whatever calling is burning in your chest, you were never meant to walk it alone.
That's not weakness. That's wisdom.
That's not admitting defeat. That's understanding the design.
The Safe Choice and the Right Choice
I get it. Staying in the boat is safer. Keeping your dreams small enough that you can carry them alone is easier. Not recruiting anyone means not risking anyone's disappointment. Not asking for help means not being vulnerable. Not letting anyone see the doubt, the fear, the places where you're struggling, that feels like the way to maintain the appearance of strength.
But that's the drift. That's staying in the boat. That's the slow walk away from who you're called to be.
The safe choice is the lonely choice. The safe choice is the isolated choice. The safe choice is the one that keeps you small and keeps you scared.
The right choice, the one that actually requires faith, is to step out of the boat and call someone to walk with you.
Maybe you fall. Maybe you both fall. But at least you're not falling alone. At least there's someone there to grab your hand and pull you back up and say "Come on. Look at Jesus. Don't look at the waves. Look at Jesus."
The Walk
So today, brother, I need to ask you two questions:
First: Are you still looking at Jesus, or have you been staring at the waves?
Because if you've been focusing on the lack, the challenge, the overwhelm, the impossibility of it all, that's your wake-up call. Get your eyes back on Him. Right now. This second. Because the second you do, your feet won't sink.
And second: Who are you walking with?
Because if you're trying to do this alone, if you're carrying the dream, the calling, the deep water all by yourself, you need to stop right now and make a call. Find one person. One brother. One man who can walk with you.
Invite him into the deep water. Tell him the truth about what you're building, what you're afraid of, where you need help. Ask him to keep you focused on Jesus when the waves get too big.
You were never meant to do this alone.
And the man you become, the one who recruits, who calls, who builds with brothers, that's the man who doesn't just walk on water.
That's the man who stays up.
